A Wibbly-Wobbly Christmas
by Laura Elizabeth
Summary: Written for the 2013 Fic Advent Calendar. Twenty-five Doctor Who fics for every day until Christmas! Most will be TenxRose or TentooxRose, but Nine and Eight will also have cameos. Not all fics will be Christmas themed. If you have any suggestions for future fics, please let me know!
1. The Brightest Lights Eventually Fade

Written for the 2013 Fic Advent Calendar.

A/N: It's a little sad, and for that I'm so sorry. I also got out of my comfort zone where tenses are concerned. Please tell me if you don't like it or it feels a little wonky. I'm iffy about it.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

It happens two years, five months, one week, and three days after their goodbye. Their _final _goodbye.

Rose Tyler starts to forget.

She never expects it happen, but that's exactly when it does. She's stirring her tea and a thought begins to form at the back of her mind. It's nothing at first; over time she's learned to suppress all her thoughts regarding him. But as she takes the first sip and the warm liquid cascades over her tongue and slides down her throat she finds that the mug has become unsteady in her hand, tea splashing over the sides to scald her skin and make ugly, dark splotches on the white kitchen tile.

She sets the mug down and braces herself against the counter, both hands gripping as hard as they can, anchoring her to this reality. She takes a deep breath and turns to look at her mum, who's busy trying to get her baby brother to eat his dinner with utensils, rather than his hands.

"Mum?"

Jackie turns abruptly at the panic in her daughter's voice. The woman before her is pale and on the verge of tears. "Sweetheart, are you all right?"

"How did he take his tea?"

The question confuses Jackie, and it's not until after Rose has repeated it that the meaning sinks in. But she is distracted by Tony's antics, and she doesn't answer with the normal delicacy that she devotes to conversation about him. "Well, I don't know Rose. He liked it so sweet it's a wonder he still had teeth in his head. Can his kind even get cavities?"

But Rose doesn't say anything. Instead she has turned back to the sink. Staring out the kitchen window, she can see dark clouds off in the distance. Her shoulders slump a little and Jackie wonders if her daughter is crying. When she speaks, the answer is clear.

"I don't remember, mum. I don't remember how he takes his tea. How could I forget something like that?" She's sobbing now, elbows on the counter, face buried in her hands. Jackie doesn't know how to react. When they had first been stranded it was something she was used to. Rose cried for weeks on end and it nearly broke her heart. But it had been so long. They had been doing so well.

"Rose—"

"Why did I forget that? I made it for him all the time, mum!" Tony takes this moment to make himself known and throws his plastic spoon to the floor. He laughs gleefully and begins to eat his peas with his hands, much to Jackie's disappointment. She gives her son a disapproving look and turns back to Rose. She places both hands on her shoulders.

"Sometimes we forget, Rose. When your granddad died I didn't think I'd ever forget him. My own dad! But sometimes I have a hard time remembering what he sounded like, or how tall he was. It just happens, sweetheart. I don't know why, but I wish it didn't."

"But it's not like that with me and the Doctor. He's not dead mum, he's out there somewhere." A beat passes between them as Rose swipes angrily at her tears. "You don't—you don't think he'd forget me, do you?"

Jackie pulls her daughter into a tight hug. "Oh Rose, honestly. Forget you? I doubt that!"

She pulls away from the hug and offers her mum a watery smile. "Sorry. Thought I was done with the mood swings. I guess I've just been thinking about it more with the way things are at work right now." She laughs half-heartedly as Jackie dismisses her apology with the wave of her hand.

She pulls a squirming Tony out of his high chair. "I'm going to go give this one a bath. Are you sure you're ok?"

"M'fine, promise." She gives a genuine smile to prove her point and watches her mother climb the stairs with Tony in her arms.

Several hours later, when she's sure everyone is asleep; Rose creeps down to the kitchen. The moon illuminates the room, bathing everything in a milky, cold light. She stares up at it from the window above the sink and reaches into the cupboard for a mug. But she can't quite reach. And even though her fingers find purchase on the mug, as she is bringing it down she can't quite keep a hold on it. It slips from her grip and smashes against the counter, bits of ceramic shards clattering into the sink.

"Damnit." The mess looks distorted as she tries to see through her tears. She does her best to clean it before sitting down at the kitchen table, still clutching a piece of the mug in her hand. A sob escapes her and echoes around the empty kitchen.

"This isn't fair," she whispers as she stares down at the sliver of blue ceramic she's holding. "Help me remember. Please." She isn't sure what she was doing. Praying to a broken mug? She doesn't really believe in god and the only other person she actually believes in is gone.

"Please," she whispers again, tears falling freely down her cheeks. "I don't want to forget."

And then, as if someone somewhere has heard her plea, it comes to her. Suddenly a memory takes shape in her mind. She jumps from her seat and goes back to the cupboard, grabbing another mug. It was something that happened so, so long ago. Shortly after Christmas, after his regeneration. After she had dismissed his new face. She had been in the TARDIS galley, determined to make it up to him. He had entered the kitchen soundlessly, just as she was about to make tea. He startled her and she dropped the mug, shattering it against the galley floor.

He had been worried, asked her if she was all right, if she was hurt. When she had assured him she was fine, she admitted to wanting to make him tea as a sort of apology for rejecting him. Because she had not accepted him as the man she had grown so familiar with and she had come to realize how quick she had been to jump to conclusions. And looking him straight in the eye she told him that she knew he was still her Doctor, and that she was sorry for treating him otherwise.

He smiled then, and he looked so incredibly young. Gently, he removed the mug from her hands as she stated that he'd help her. New taste buds and everything. And together they made his tea. And when she tried to add sugar with a teaspoon, he swatted her hand away and tipped the container over his cup, allowing the sugar to flow in until he declared that that was the perfect amount. After a copious amount of milk, Rose stared into the mug, eyeing the nearly white substance. He let her taste it then, and she actually spat it into the sink as he guffawed over how dramatic he was being.

And now here she is, standing over a mug of milky-white-used-to-be-tea. She forces a few swallows down before pouring the rest into the sink. Even after all that time, it was still as terrible as she remembered it. Stranger yet, is that she can almost feel him there with her, hands ghosting over hers as she holds the mug tightly between both hands. His laughter in her ear as she frowns at the taste. It's the closest she's ever felt to him in this world, and that leaves a smile on her face and warmth in her heart that she hasn't felt in quite some time. Two years, five months, and three days to be exact.

On the days she hates him, on the days when the Dimension Cannon seems to be a far away dream or the days when she's feeling particularly stranded and lonely, she makes his tea. She frowns at the taste, hates the way it makes her throat feel. But she forces herself to remember. Because if she doesn't who will? And even though the brightest lights eventually fade, sometimes all it takes is the smallest of catalysts to spark them back to life. And with that light comes a flicker of hope. And she's clinging to it.

It happens two years, five months, one week, and four days after their final goodbye.

Rose Tyler refuses to forget.


	2. Names

A/N: Day two of the 2013 fic advent calendar.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Names (Part 1 of ?)

He was slumped over the desk in the study; face buried in his hands, paperwork sprawled on the desk and floor. He groaned and banged his head against the desk, once, twice, and was going in for a third time when there was a soft knock at the door.

"Doctor?" Rose's voice caused his head to jerk up, eyes focusing on her form as she entered the study. She had already changed out of her work clothes. "Do you want me to help with the paperwork? I know it can be pretty overwhelming at first."

"No, no, it's fine. That's not even the problem." He ran his hands through his hair before he lowered his head back into his hands. "Pete's been harassing me about this whole name business. I told him John Smith but he said that's not going to work."

"Well, considering Torchwood is already suspicious, he's right."

"But Roooooose. I've always used John Smith. Perfectly good alias, that!"

"You're right; it's an _alias_, Doctor, not your name. This is something you're going to be stuck with for the rest of your life. People can't just call your Doctor."

"You're not helping," he mumbled as he pressed his face into the desk.

She could sense his frustration. Since they had been in Pete's World (about three weeks) Pete had managed to create a job for the Doctor, but he had yet to actually start the job. He had been working from home while Rose was out in the field, all the while dwelling on this stupid and very human name problem. It was just too much too soon. He had been thrust into this world and had been expected to function like a human and it was just too difficult. He couldn't cope.

Sensing his distress, she moved to stand next to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She massaged gently and smiled as he started to relax a little. "I know this is tough. Trust me. Adjusting here was…hard. Especially because I was alone."

There was a pause and he lifted his head and attempted to make eye contact with her. "Not alone anymore."

"No." She replied so softly he barely heard it. "Never again." She gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "I like John. I think you should keep it. Suits you."

This time he shifts completely so that he is sitting up and turned to face her. "You really think so?"

She smiles softly. "Mhm." She stacks the scattered paperwork and sits on the edge of the desk. "But the surname definitely has to be changed. Can't you think of anything?"

"I want it to mean something."

"You'll think of something. Why don't you sleep on it? Maybe it'll come to you in a dream." Her tongue poked out between her teeth as she smiled at him.

He smiles back and stands up. "Thank you. For everything. I love you, you know."

"I do. And I love you too." She grabs his hand. "Come on, let's go to bed."

She told him now to dwell on it too much as she left for work that morning. She really regretted leaving him alone, but she also knew that she'd probably only frustrate him more. After a very long day at work she stepped through the front door and was met by the Doctor, hair wild, smile incredibly bright. He picked her up and spun her around and she laughed and swatted him on the arms begging him to put her down.

He beamed at her. "I've got it! I found a name! And it's brilliant!"

She beamed back at him, his enthusiasm completely infectious. "Ok, ok. Amaze me."

"Sullivan."

Rose was silent.

"Do you like it?"

"Well yeah, but with your excitement I thought it would be something… extravagant?"

"Oh Rose, it is!"

"How, exactly?" It's not a bad name, she thinks, but it wasn't what she expected.

"Anne Sullivan!"

She blanched. "Uh Doctor, you can't go calling yourself Anne."

A bark of laughter escaped him. "No, no no! Anne Sullivan. Teacher of Helen Keller! Genius woman!"

Suddenly it clicked for her. "Ohhhhh." But she still looked confused. "Ok, so why did you pick her name then?"

"Don't you see, Rose?" When she answered with nothing more than a blank stare he continued. "Anne Sullivan was the guiding light for a girl who spent most of her life in darkness. She taught her how to communicate, how to control her frustrations, how to understand the world around her. She showed her that just because she was different didn't mean that she couldn't succeed. She taught her that she wasn't alone in. She changed her life, Rose." He paused, tilted her chin up with one hand so that they were eye to eye. "Just like you changed me. A light in the dark."

She didn't know what to say. She was so overwhelmed with love and happiness that all she could do was stare at him.

"So, uh. That's why I chose that name."

"I love it," her voice came out barely above a whisper as she continued to stare at him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I wanted you to like it. Considering it'll be yours one day too. I hope."

He noticed her eyes darken at his words. Desire was evident in her voice as she spoke. "I quite like how Mrs. Sullivan sounds." She reached up and began to loosen his tie. "You're bolder, you know. Like this. I like it."

"Yeah?

"Yeah." She pulled him down into a heated kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I think we should take this to the bedroom, Mr. Sullivan."

He grinned manically. "Yep! Good name!"


	3. Names II

**A/N:** A tad shorter than I anticipated, but these last few days have been a little overwhelming. I'm hoping to post two tomorrow. If you have any ideas for prompts please send them my way. I'm seriously lacking, and I'm afraid I'm going to run out of ideas. Also, if you have the time, I'd love it if you could review. Thanks, I really appreciate it!

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine.

**Names (part two of ?)**

"No, no, I don't like it, Rose." He rolls the name around his mouth one more time before expelling it back into the air. "It sounds so…so…"

"So what?" Oh he knows that look. She's glaring at him. It's the 'I'm tired, and I don't want to argue with you so you better let me have my way' look. But this was something that he just can't let go of.

And so of course he opens his big mouth and inserts his foot once again. "It's mundane! Boring! Our child has to have a magnificent name!" He crosses his arms and eyes her growing baby bump.

"Coming from the man who chose John Smith for a name!"

"John Sullivan now." He pouts.

"Only because I made you pick a different surname."

"Fine, fine. What other names did you have in mind?"

She looks self conscious then, shifting her eyes to the floor. "I haven't even told you my favorite yet."

"Well what is it then?" She honestly doesn't want to tell him. They'd been arguing over baby names ever since they found out they were expecting a girl. And so far he'd shot down Molly, Caitlyn, and Andrea (he was not going to have a child that shared a name with his mother-in-law , thank you very much,) not to mention a load of other names she had circled in the baby name book Pete had bought them. And to Rose, his name choices were just as bad. One name consisted of at least two x's and a q, and the other sounded something like a cat hacking up a hairball. _Really Rose, on Magna 7 it's a beautiful name and it's only bestowed upon children who show great potential from birth. _

Not wanting to drag things out any longer than necessary she mumbles a reply and he asks her to repeat herself. She huffs loudly, throwing her hands in the air. "Charlotte! I said I like Charlotte, all right?"

His mouth opens but no sound comes out. He continues to stare at her.

"If you don't like it you can say, ya know. Not like you haven't already," she adds as an afterthought.

He finds his words. "No—no. It's… it's wonderful."

"Come again," she asked surprised, her disbelief warranted.

His face broke out into a giant smile. "It's brilliant, Rose! I love it! And we can call her Charlie! How great is that?!"

"You're serious then?"

"Yes!" He sweeps her into a hug and she laughs loud and unrestrained as he dances her around the room. "Oh we are going to be the best parents. And Charlie. She's going to be the greatest kid ever! Can you imagine Rose? Charlotte Sullivan! You my love," he kisses gently upon setting her back on her feet, "are a genius!"

He watches her as she worries her bottom lip, clearly considering something. "You should choose the middle name."

"Really?" He hops a little in place, barely able to contain his excitement.

Rose rolls her eyes at his childish antics. "Yeah, only fair, right?"

He smiles. "Are you sure?"

"S'long as it isn't that name from Magna 7 or Milky Way or something weird and spacey like that, then yes."

He grins and kisses her again. "Thank you."

Charlotte Andromeda Sullivan is born four months later.


	4. Red Bicycle When You Were Twelve

Just a little fatherly!Eight and young!Rose at Christmastime. I like to think that Eight was the one to get her the bicycle and teach her how to ride it.

I'm a little iffy on Eight's voice. I hope I did him justice since I love him so very much!

I'm working on a few of the prompts that were given to me, but they seem to be much more developed and angsty than I had originally planned. So it may be a few days before they make an appearance.

Thanks for the reviews, I really appreciate them! Please do review if you have the time, it means the world to me!

**Disclaimer:** Once again, it's not mine.

She huffed, pulling herself back up again for the fifth time. The metal was ridiculously cold, even against the two layers of clothing she had put on before sneaking out of the flat.

The Powell Estate was shrouded in the darkness of eleven pm, and while it was cold, there was not a snowflake in sight.

Rose Tyler continued to push herself back up, allowing the bicycle to right itself before putting one foot back on the pedal, careful to not tip over again. She then put her other foot on the pedal and waited for a moment. When it was clear she wasn't going to fall over, she pushed off, feet turning the pedals, hands trying desperately to steer through her mittens.

And of course she lost her balance again and crashed unceremoniously to the pavement with an 'oompf.'

Light laughter came from somewhere above her and she whipped her head around looking for the source. A man stood not far from where she sat, eyes sparkling under the street-lamp, mouth upturned in a smile as he continued to laugh.

She hoisted herself up and frowned. "Right, laugh all you want."

His laughter died off and he approached her slowly. Suddenly, she remembered that it was nearly midnight, that she was only twelve, and that the idea that a strange man would be approaching her in a deserted lot was quite scary. She backed up a little, positioning the bike between them.

"Do you not know how to ride it?"

She took in his appearance. Dark wavy hair nearly to his chin, a long coat, clothes that she thought she'd seen in one of her History text books, and a kind expression. Well, he looked nice enough, if not a little old-fashioned.

"Of course I do, I just like falling off of it better than riding it."

He smiled at her sarcasm. "Maybe you should try stabilisers."

Her expression darkened as she glared at him. "I'm twelve! I can't use stabilisers!"

He grinned. "So you _don't_ know how to ride it!"

She crossed her arms as a puff of condensation passed her lips. Her nose was red with cold and stray hairs were falling from her cap. She placed her hands on her hips, a clear picture of frustration. "No. Happy?" She eyed him carefully.

"Why'd you get a bicycle like that if you don't know how to ride?"

"I never learned." She looks down at her shoes, clearly ashamed. "My mum is really busy taking care of us. We never had money for something like this." She gestured to the bicycle. "I've always wanted one. A red one that looks old like this one, but I never even asked mum for it. Don't even know how she knew."

He gasped. "What about Father Christmas? I'm sure he brought you that bicycle!"

"Riiiight." She laughed at his offended expression. "Haven't believed in him since I was seven, sorry."

"Well, then I guess some people are really good at getting people presents." He winked at her and she stared at him. He was a bit weird, she thought but she didn't feel threatened by his presence. In fact she sort of felt…comforted? It was an odd feeling, but she didn't mind it.

"Who are you?"

"I'm John."

"My name's Rose."

"Well Rose, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now tell me, what are you doing out here all by yourself so late at night?"

She looked ashamed then, staring at the bike with a deep frown. "I didn't want anyone to see me trying to learn to ride it. All my mates know how and they don't know that I can't."

He smiled gently at her. Of course. Children could be so cruel and it made perfect sense for her to be self conscious about something like that. "Well Rose, it's a good thing I was walking by this way, because I happen to be an excellent instructor for beginning cyclists."

She rolled her eyes. "Really?"

"No, really! I even helped invent the bicycle. Used to sketch with Leonardo da Vinci. Don't ever believe that was a hoax! I know, I was there! It was as real as Father Christmas!"

She laughed, clearly more amused than worried about his bizarre outburst. "You're a nutter."

"Yes, perhaps I am! Now hop on, we've only got, ohhhh, twenty-seven minutes until your mum wakes up."

"But how do you—"

"Up you go, Rose." She mounted the bike and waited for instruction. "Balance is very important. You want to keep hands steady and the handlebars straight when you start. And don't let your nerves get the best of you. If you think you're going to crash, you will."

He held on to the seat with one hand and the right handlebar with the other as he told her to peddle. They moved slowly, him guiding her forward and then in small circles until he was sure she was ready to do it on her own.

It was an odd thing. A twelve year old girl outside in the middle of a night in her pajamas and oversized coat with a strange man probably three times her age, teaching her how to ride a bicycle. And yet, as Rose concentrated on steering the bike and peddling and absolutely not falling, she couldn't help but think that it felt weirdly normal. She had a flash of him standing above her smiling, but he wore a different face. He looked more like her father and this fantasy left her heart aching just a little bit.

His voice broke her out of her thoughts. "That's it; you're on your own now!" When he let go the bike wobbled a bit. "Don't stop, keep going, just like I'm still there holding on." And she did. She rode all around the lot, the cold wind burning her cheeks and lips. Her mum would have a fit if she got ill but at that moment Rose didn't care. She felt so accomplished that she gave a loud whoop as she circled one last time and came to a stop, placing both of her feet back on the ground without problem.

"That was brilliant!" Without thinking she jumped from her bike and hugged him. He hugged her back, smiling fondly at the young girl.

"You were brilliant!"

She shuffled her feet a little as they parted. "Only cos you were there to help."

"No! You are brilliant! Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise!"

"You really think so?"

"Yes, I really do." He took out his pocket watch, glanced at it, and shoved it back in his coat. "I should really be going. And you should get inside; your mother will worry if you don't."

"Yeah, I should." She looked at him, a smile forming on her face. "Thanks for everything. I mean it. I know this sounds daft, but I don't have a dad and it was really nice to have someone to help me with this. Mum probably would've moaned about breaking a nail."

He returned her smile. "I'm glad I could help. With everything. Now go inside, you don't want to get sick."

She turned to leave, but stopped abruptly and turned back around. "You're not…you couldn't be…You aren't Father Christmas, are you?"

He laughed and winked at her once again. "That'd be a silly, wouldn't it?" Her baffled expression made him chuckle. "Merry Christmas, Rose."

"Merry Christmas, John." She shook her head in slight disbelief as she walked towards her flat, red bicycle alongside beside her.


End file.
